Jagged

to mine.

When he let me go, we settled back and my eyes went to Nina.

She was sipping her martini.

When she placed the drink back on the table, her eyes were dancing on me and she said, “Told you.”

It hit me then. She knew why Ham was pissed about the vibrator usage.

I smiled at her and replied, “You so totally did.”

Nina was halfway through her martini and we were all the way through our bread basket when she leaned toward Ham and me.

“I know you think we’re rude—” she started.

“That’s because we are rude,” Max murmured. Nina sent him a killing glance, to which Max grinned at her. She rolled her eyes and then looked back at us.

“But, I’m sure you know this, Greg is here,” she finished.

“I noticed,” I told her.

“And Kami,” she told me.

“I know,” I told her.

“When I saw that, we had to come over and interrupt. You needed reinforcements. Trust me, things can go bad at The Rooster,” she stated gravely.

I found this intriguing, but before I could ask, Nina’s eyes darted to the side and up and she inquired, “Can I help you?”

“No,” my aunt snapped from where she stood beside our table.

I tensed. Ham went solid. I even sensed Nina and Max tensing.

“Walk away,” Ham growled.

I looked to the side to see Ham’s head tipped back to scowl at Dahlia Cinders, my maiden aunt, who had a black soul, a nasty mouth, a heart of stone, and a flair for drama.

She looked like she always looked, except older. Perfectly creased trousers. Flouncy blouse. Appropriate jewelry, all of it quality, none of it ostentatious. Now-fully-gray hair swept back in a not unattractive bun but, knowing her, nothing was attractive. Brown eyes that didn’t hide she was mean as a snake.

She ignored his words but not him.

“Heard you were back in town. Heard you installed her back under your roof,” she noted.

“Walk away,” Ham repeated.

She again ignored him and went on. “Clearly she didn’t learn the first time, good riddance to bad rubbish.”

Nina gasped.

Max grunted.

My breath caught.

“Walk… the fuck… away,” Ham snarled.

“Excuse me, I don’t know you or why you’re suddenly here, but we’re trying to enjoy a nice night out,” Nina butted in. “Please, make a choice and do it swiftly. You can do as Mr. Reece says or I’m calling the manager.”

My aunt turned her venomous eyes to Nina. “I have a few words to say to my niece.”

Nina didn’t even blink but her back went straight.

She’d never met them but I’d told her. She knew all about my family.

“So write them down on nice notepaper and use our trusty postal service to deliver them,” Nina retorted.

“Oh fuck,” Max muttered, getting close and curling an arm around his wife’s waist.

“Nice language,” Aunt Dahlia snapped.

Max looked at her a moment, then, weirdly, grinned.

“Excuse me!” Nina hissed. “That’s my husband you’re talking to.”

“He has a foul mouth,” Aunt Dahlia returned.

“Better that than foul manners,” Nina shot back.

This was semiamusing but mostly scary and it got scarier when Ham slid out of the booth, got close to Aunt Dahlia, looked down at her, his scary-scarier-scariest face unamused and entirely pissed-off, and he rumbled menacingly, “I said, walk… the fuck…away.”

“Is there a problem here?”

Oh hell.

That was Greg.

“You,” Aunt Dahlia sneered at my ex-husband. “I know who you are. Her one shot at respectability and you scrape her off? What, did she cheat on you?”

Greg ignored her, looked to me, and asked, “Are you all right?”

“This is my Aunt Dahlia,” I stated as answer.

“I know. You pointed her out at the festival three years ago,” Greg replied.

“So, obviously, no. I’m not all right, seeing as I’m choking on Cinders-infected air,” I returned.

Greg looked at Aunt Dahlia. “You need to leave.”

“I already told her that,” Ham growled.

Greg ignored Ham like he didn’t exist and said to Aunt Dahlia, “I’ll ask the manager to have you removed.”

“Since I dine here once a month, I doubt he’ll choose removing me over removing the lot of you.” She twirled her finger in the air to indicate us all.

“Do you think,” Nina started and I looked at her to see her looking at Max, “that this is normal? I mean, does this kind of thing happen to other people in the world? I really want to know.”

Max smiled at his wife.

I looked back at Aunt Dahlia to see, scarily, she was looking at me. “You need to phone your father.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

This was said by Kami Maxwell.

I leaned forward and plonked my forehead on the table.

“Kami,” Max said in a warning tone. “Stay out of it.”

“The staff is excellent when they’re serving food,” Nina remarked irritably. “They disappear during drama. Where are they? I really want to know.”

“Don’t you call your father, Zara,” Kami ordered.

I lifted my forehead off the table and aimed my eyes at Max’s sister, a pleasantly plump, female rendition of her brother, which was to say she had great eyes, fantastic dark, wavy hair, and very attractive features.

“That’s not a worry, honey. I’ve conditioned my body to spontaneously combust if I get six digits in,” I told her.

“I don’t find you amusing,” Aunt Dahlia snapped.

“I don’t give a shit,” I shot back.

“Excuse me.” Greg had hold of the arm of one of the waiters. “Can you please send the manager over here?”

“Of course,” she muttered before she quickly scurried away.

“You’re a mean old bitch,” Kami said to my aunt, “and I’ve been bein’ nice for a real long time.”

Nina’s eyes cut to me and got huge, eloquent indication that I agreed with that Kami’s brand of “bein’ nice” was not agreed on by all.

Kami kept talking.

“And these boys here won’t want to get in a smackdown with a nasty old woman. But not me. I got no problem doin’ that. So if you don’t walk away, I’ve got enough bitch stored up, I’m aimin’ it all at you, startin’ with throwin’ Nina’s drink in your face.”

At this, Nina slid her drink out of reach.

“Then,” Kami went on, “if you, that snake of a brother of yours, or his sniveling wife get anywhere near Zara, phone her, or attempt to get in touch with her in any way, I’m unleashing all holy hell on all your asses until you beg for forgiveness or move to another state.”